Of Dark Branches And Clear Waters
by cysne
Summary: Under dark branches and over clear waters, Evil may lie where you least expect it. Sometimes, it's the exact reverse of what you think... [on hold]


**__**

Disclaimer: Nope. I just own that bunch of unkown Elves who nearly get themselves killed and then the others who have to fix them up. =)

A/N: This is a little something I wrote, while on "Light of Laer" overdose, at 3h am. Still haven't come up with a good enough title... Oh the curse of writing!, that and summaries! How to make up something that will stir curiosity and still not let out the whole story?! Anyway, I'm strongly considering further writing it, but not yet, not until I'm done with "LoL", which may take some while. But I'm sure that every now and then I'll be adding something to it, whenever I get too bored with "LoL" (I so love using only the inicials on this title! That's the whole reason why I chose it in the first place, you know?).

Well, I hope you like it!! And review, please!!! Even if only to say "I've read it". It's not like it's an incredible amount of trouble for you, and it would make a sorry... er... do I qualify as a writer? Anyway, it would make me very happy! Just press that little purple button at the end and let me know what's on your mind (even if it has absolutely nothing to do with this, I'm not finical about those)! Enjoy!!! =D

~ Cisne Negro

________________

Chapter I - Disturbing Events

"Make way! Make way!"

A guard ran into King Thranduil's Halls, in the great forest of Mirkwood. He struggled to open a passage among the crowd of Elves gathering to see what was happening. Behind him, six more Elves came, some supporting each other and others on horse. Each looked worse than the one before him. They were all bloodied and had a defeated and exhausted look on their faces. All had wounds of one kind or another, and to the healing rooms was where the palace guard was leading them.

It had been a very long time since such a sight presented itself to the Wood-elves. True, they had their fights with Orcs and other fell beings, but never did their warriors come back in such a state as this. Many women were hiding their children, not wanting them to behold such a show, and others came running to the returned party's side with rags for them to staunch their bleeding wounds with.

Down by the healing chambers, Sehael, master healer of Mirkwood, was cleaning his utensils, after a peaceful and uneventful day, and preparing to go to dinner with the two other healers, who were still learning, Laurendol and Gallach. All they heard was voices in the distance, down the many long corridors of the underground palace, before the doors to the infirmary were suddenly swung open.

A guard first came in and held the doors open. As the poor Elves who followed him entered, the two nurses immediately ran to them and settled them down on separate, comfortable beds. Sehael was already putting water to boil and thinking of what herbs he had and what could he use. He ordered the guard to close the doors, for healing required a peaceful environment.

Voices came to Sehael; Gallach and Laurendol were already examining their recently arrived patients and told the master healer of what ailed them.

"Broken arm!..."

"Arrow shots... and one with a spear too!..."

"This one has nothing but cuts..."

"Fractured ribs..."

The warriors, on the other hand, just let themselves be swept off by exhaustion, many of them falling unconscious the minute they reached a bed. In some cases, it only helped the healers. Sehael started giving his orders.

"Laurendol, see to it that there is always water boiling here! Ready as many bandages as you can, I want them handy! Start bandaging what you can, but leave the worst ones to me! Gallach, you start cleaning the wounds as well! See which ones are more urgent, while I go fetch some herbs! And help Laurendol!"

And that was just the beginning. Each one of the healers found him or herself running from place to place, trying to help the more seriously injured. The first thing they all noticed was that some were very pale. Sehael did not like it. It meant that they had lost much blood already. The ones with arrows would have to wait to see them removed, for the healers were more worried over the blood-loss.

The first Sehael saw to was called Artholion. He had been shot twice and his clothes were soaked red. The bleeding had already ceased, thanks to the nurses' ministrations just before. He asked for water from Laurendol and set himself to prepare a paste that he hastily spread over the wounds. After placing some cloth over them, he moved on to another.

Gallach and Laurendol were both leaning over the same warrior. This one was Carangalad and he had a nasty spear crossing his shoulder. They panicked somewhat, not used to having so many people needing them so badly at the same time, and, as consequence, it took longer than necessary to see to him. In the end, they went to get the same paste Sehael was using and did their best to cover the wound in it.

The master healer was already seeing to another, Hallathon. He had no major injuries, only a broken arm, apart from the many scratches and bruises that everyone had. He tried to settle the arm in a position as comfortable as possible and, with a quick promise of return, set out to the next one.

Laurendol had already regained her cool, finding a rhythm in the middle of all the chaos. She went to see one called Lossendur. He had a strong build, but she did not like the injury he bore. An arrow had pierced his knee. Laurendol did her best to soothe him and ease the pain, but left that wound to Sehael. She did not trust herself to tend something so delicate.

Gallach chose Luinnen. He seemed to have nothing too serious, but when she felt about his ribcage, she could definitely feel some fractured ribs. Still, all she had to do was wrap them carefully and leave some water and more bandages by him, for he saw to his other injuries himself. These were nothing more than scratches and many cuts, remnants of enemy blades and arrows that had barely missed their target.

Sehael then found Andbrethil; the healer knew that this one was brother to Hallathon. His injuries distressed him greatly. An arrow, inches to the right of his heart, a bad-looking slash across his face, which he could not be certain whether or not it had hit the eye, and, of course, the normal dosage of gashes. He was very pale, his face as white as the moon's on a cold Winter night.

The first thing Sehael did was find a large cloth and soaked it with a careful selection of herbs in carefully measured doses. This, he laid on Andbrethil's face, covering his whole injured side. Next, he had to stop the bleeding on his chest. He feared the Elf did not have much more blood in him to lose. Gallach came to his side to help and they both quieted the flowing stream. Above the general noise, Laurendol's voice was heard, telling Sehael of Lossendur's leg and asking for his aid.

The master healer left Andbrethil to the two maidens and went to Lossendur's side. Indeed it was a delicate situation. The first thing that came to his mind was that the Elf would not be able to walk normally again. Only with an incredible amount of good fortune would it be possible. Again did Sehael lay an herb soaked cloth to cover it for the moment and went back to Andbrethil.

He sent Laurendol and Gallach to see to Hallathon's broken arm. He told them what herbs to use and how to wrap the arm. As for Andbrethil, he did not want to take out his arrow; he could not afford any further blood-loss. So, he left it as it was, only spreading the same paste upon it that had been used on the other warriors, to prevent infections.

Revealing the face, he saw what it was he needed: a needle and line, to sew the enormous cut. With all his experience, Sehael knew at once that a scar would stay behind, to remind its bearer of that fateful day.

After stitching it with the uttermost care, he left rags on top of Andbrethil's eyes, to keep him from opening them and reset the cloth to the side. There was nothing more he could do, for now.

Checking how the two apprentices were doing with Hallathon's arm with a pleased look on his face, Sehael went to see whom else still needed help. He found Luinnen tending to himself and went to help him finish dressing his wounds.

He returned to Lossendur then. After gathering a selection of utensils he decided to take out the arrow immediately. In this case, the sooner it came off, the better. He examined the arrow and did not recognise its fashion. He called out to Luinnen and inquired him, concerning the arrow-tip's shape.

"It's shaped in the plainest of ways. A sharp triangular point, although very small, smaller than usual for Orcs to bear. In the end closest to the shaft, the triangle spreads out and then abruptly ends in three other piercing points, so that when it's pulled back it can cause even more damage."

The healer almost threw his arms up in the air in despair, but since he expected nothing less than that, he contained himself. With gentle trained fingers, he probed the wound. And then, after making sure that the kneecap would suffer as little as possible and that the muscles were out of the way, he slowly removed the fell thing. Indeed its size was considerably smaller than what was normal, but Sehael did not complain. If anything, he thanked Elbereth, for it made his job easier. He then splintered the leg and heavily bandaged it, preventing any movement to be made. He left Luinnen with him and went off to see what else needed doing.

The only thing left then was to remove the arrows, and spear, from the others. After examining them, he found with relief that none were poisoned. He thanked the Valar for it, but still could not help but to find it strange, for Orc weapons were usually filthy with poison. So, he called out to the guard, who yet stood by the door, in case anything was necessary.

"Tell me, do you know all of these warriors?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Then go get their families, bring them here. I should tell them how they fare. Surely, by now, news of their arrival and the condition in which they arrived, has spread throughout the palace."

While waiting, Sehael played back in his mind a list of who the Elves were, what were their injuries and what would he say to their families, preparing himself. Things like these were never pleasant. A voice shook him out of his reverie.

"Sehael, what can you tell me of my brother?" the Elf asked with a concerned look on his features.

"Peace, Hallathon. I have sent for the families to come, they are on their way. I shall tell you everything when they arrive."

And thus stood now Sehael, in front of a small crowd, outside the healing chambers. He addressed them one by one, ignoring ranks and all else. He chose to leave the King to the last, along with Hallathon.

"Carangalad is on his way to mending. He took a spear through the shoulder, but not too much damage was done, fortunately, for otherwise, he might not have been able to have full use of his arm again. He should be recovered in about a week and a half. You may go in and see him now, but be warned! And this is valid to everyone here: not only do I want every patient resting, but also none of the arrows, or the spear, have been removed. So I ask of you to try to keep his arm from moving. The less he does it, the sooner will the muscles heal themselves. They are all very weary still."

Without waiting any further and with only a nod acknowledging what she'd heard, Carangalad's mother made her way to the infirmary, her husband following. He saluted Sehael and with a pat on the shoulder thanked him for helping their son.

"Artholion will be fine as well. He was shot twice, one in the arm and other on the leg. None of them have given too much trouble apart from the blood-loss. But this is easily remedied with some good rest and fine meals. You may go see him too, but once again, pay little attention to his looks. The shafts are still buried in him; his clothes are bloodied and so is he, but it is of no importance. I say that in little over a week will he be joining back with Carangalad."

As before, Artholion's family thanked the healer and went to join their wounded relative. Indeed they found him in a miserable look, covered in both dirt and blood, and were it not for Sehael's words of warning, they would have been quite scared. In the meantime he was talking to another family already.

"Of Lossendur, I am worried. He was not so lucky in his injuries as his friends were. He took a nasty hit right in the knee and I fear that he may never be able to walk as before. He may stay with a limp, but then again, maybe not. He is a strong Elf and I would not be too surprised if he were to recover completely." Even though he tried to transpire as much confidence as he could, he very much doubted his own words. Lossendur would be limp, all indicated to it, and he would be very much taken aback if this was not. The warrior would not be able to fight again, unless on guard stations where there was little action and no need for moving fast. "I've done my best and will continue to help him in what I can."

The worried family hurried to Lossendur's side with a sad look on their faces, whispering their many thanks to Sehael on the way. Only two families remained, even though there were three more injured warriors.

"Luinnen. I'm not worried about him, unless it's about his injured pride! He cracked two ribs, I believe, and got several cuts and bruises, but that's all. He'll be back home in a couple of days, if his wounded ego can handle it."

The family smiled with relief, not taking the healer's jest seriously. Everyone knew Luinnen and everyone loved him still. He was not proud in a thick-headed way. Nay, he could recognise his flaws, or at least this one he could, and was always the first to make fun over them. The young Elf had a never-ending humour and was a good companion to others.

Sehael took a deep breath, knowing that now the hard part came; not quite with both of the remaining, but with only one. Still, it was hard news to give, even because he himself was not sure of what to expect. He turned to the younger Elf standing beside him and spoke. Not to him, but to the other one.

"Hallathon here is fine, just as Luinnen. He broke his arm, but that's nothing that can't be healed in time. He was very lucky to be hit there, instead of his head. I doubt that even with a skull as hard as his, he'd walk away with this ease. Still, I'd prefer if he was to stay for a while longer here in the healing rooms, just to be sure."

The master healer had no mind for formalities. He knew about every Elf in the whole Realm and everyone surely knew him. He was respected by all and just as loved, for his kind, friendly manner. And thus he was to everyone, were they a simple trader, a weary warrior or even the King, who now stood before him. But even with all his ease, he still could not help feeling dreadful of his next words. He knew they had to be uttered and, therefore, wasted no more time.

"But as for Andbrethil, my King, I am troubled. He was the most injured in the whole group. He was shot a little too close to the heart for my liking and lost a good amount of blood over it. Right now, he is very weak and I do not suggest for you to see him right away. Perhaps tomorrow it would be best. What worries me, however, is his sight. He has a very bad gash that cut right across the left eye. I do not know how deep nor how bad it is, but it does not look good. I am still tending to him. If you wish to see him, you may accompany me now, but as I said, I do not recommend it."

Thranduil felt something inside him break and an emptiness grew inside him. He trusted the healer with his whole heart and did not question his judgement nor his words.

"My son, blind? Is there nothing you can do, Sehael?"

"Not blind, Thranduil, I did not say that. Only one eye has been damaged and even of that I can't tell how much. Three things may happen, as far as I know, and in any case, he will not be blind, for his right eye was untouched and is still in perfect condition. Either the cut did not affect his eye and, in that case, all is well; or it did, but not enough to steal his sight; or it could also be that it ruined it completely. Now, I will be honest, on the second case, I fear of what could happen. You see, the images we perceive are a combination of what both our eyes capture. If one was to work fine and the other to give nothing but blurs, then the result would be a very cloudy sight. If this was to happen to Andbrethil, then I fear the best to do would be to blind his left eye, to keep it from interfering with his good one. However, Thranduil, before any decisions are made, I'd like to study the subject, perhaps get in contact with other healers, for I admit I know relatively little of this. But of one thing I assure you and Hallathon again, Andbrethil will still see, better or worse, he will."

"Thank you, Sehael. I have full confidence in you. Long have you been the master healer of Mirkwood and great is your knowledge and skill in these arts. I shall take your advice and come back tomorrow to see my son, even though my heart tells me otherwise. I am in your debt, Sehael."

"Nay, my King. It's nothing but my duty and I am proud to be of service. However, your words flatter me too much; I am higher in your esteem than I deserve."

"Nay, my friend. You are the one who underestimates yourself. Now, I bid you a good night and good fortune on your job. Do whatever you can for my son, Sehael, and if you need anything, let me know. I shall return tomorrow and then talk to Hallathon and the others when they are more rested, for I wish to learn of everything that lead to this." Thranduil turned to Hallathon then. "My son, I may be mistaken, but did your party not consist of seven? I heard only of six here."

Hallathon's face was one of pain as he spoke. "Yes, father, you are correct. When the fight came to an end, we could not find Minuial anywhere. Since most of us were severely wounded we decided to come back and return there afterwards to look for him. It pained us greatly to do so, but we had little choice."

"You did well, my son. I shall sent out search parties for Minuial in the morning, after I hear your report. Now, go to rest, Hallathon."

As Thranduil, the greatest King Mirkwood ever had, walked away from the houses of healing, a feeling of helplessness once again washed over him. He clutched his fists, as if attempting to grasp some comforting knowledge that kept illuding him. He'd meant every word he'd said to the master healer, but still, something inside him wished he could do something more, for his son and now for Minuial as well.

Hallathon had stayed behind, with Sehael, for the healer wanted to keep an eye on him, not trusting him to walk around with a sling and without anyone watching him. He feared what the youth could get into and how he could still worsen his wound. Hallathon, for his part, did not mind a bit having to stay in the healing quarters.

Hallathon had no real family but Andbrethil; all of them had been killed so many years ago, when the first shadows had returned to fair Greenwood. They had been warriors as well, their father and older brother, and their mother had been with them, taking a walk in the midst of the tall trees. They had been caught unaware by a group of Wargs and all had been slain immediately, never having a chance to defend themselves. Hallathon had just left childhood then, he hardly remembered his family any more and ever since, he'd been living in the palace. Andbrethil was even younger than he was when it happened and so he had no memories of them.

Since their parents had not appointed any guardian for their children in case something befell them, the King himself had taken them under his wing. Hallathon and Legolas, the King's only son, were about the same age, with perhaps only some ten years of difference, and had always been the best of friends. Andbrethil too, had been taken in as a younger brother, and Legolas cared much for him as well.

Hallathon had always felt grateful to Thranduil for not taking on a too paternal attitude towards him. He'd always been as loving and caring a father as he could, being the King, and Legolas and Moralphwen, the King's little daughter, had truly became his brothers in all but blood. But Thranduil had never tried to replace Hallathon's lost family, he'd always respected that. Despite this all, though, Hallathon was quite sure the King looked at him as a second son, and, never forgetting those lost to Mandos, Hallathon saw a second father in him as well. Andbrethil, on the other hand, had always been more dependant on the adoptive family and, not remembering any of his parents, Thranduil was more protective of him than of Hallathon.

As such, it was with great joy that he followed Sehael back inside. He would help him in what he could and during the night, he'd look after his brother. The healer, of course, had other plans. He intended to keep Hallathon lying down on a bed and resting during the night as well. He insisted that the following day, there would be plenty of things to do.

When they entered, they found Laurendol just finishing putting all the things they'd used and had no more need of away. Gallach was already preparing herbs and arranging all that would be needed for the night and following day.

Laurendol waved at Sehael and signalled him, meaning that she would go get food for them. They still had not taken time to rest themselves, ever since the injured party had arrived, that afternoon. The master healer nodded back and after making sure that every patient had all they needed and was sleeping, he set a table in a corner and readied chairs and plates, for when the nurse returned. Gallach came to join him and Hallathon, and brought a mortar and a handful of many different types of herbs. She sat down smashing them together and adding water, forming more of the antiseptic paste, and started talking to the healer.

"Sehael, is there anything else that you want me to do around here? I'm already starting out tomorrow's work, out of dread for everything that we'll have to do. It has been quite a long time since we were this busy!"

"And thank the Valar for it! I believe that ours is the only profession in which people are actually happier when we have nothing to do! Healers and perhaps warriors too! No, my good Gallach, I don't think there's anything else to do. We can finally sit down and eat and be at ease."

"How did the talk with the families go? Did they take it well? I was in the storeroom and only noticed them coming in and then Laurendol shoeing them away out the back door some time afterwards! I swear, sometimes she takes this too seriously."

"Don't let her hear you say that, although I do agree with the both of you. This is a serious profession, but sometimes you also need to know how to relax! The families took it well enough. It's always a hard job, having to hear such things. I believe Lossendur's family was rather taken down with it. You know how they are."

"Oh, yes! Warriors, all of them! And very good and noble ones at that! I feel sorry for poor Lossendur. I think it will be hard for him to get used to his new condition. Ai, how I remember him as a child, always running around challenging trees and birds to duel with him! What I used to laugh over him! Perhaps we can persuade him to help us here, I'm sure he'd be very talented!"

"Oh, poor patients of ours! If he wanted to fight against trees, what wouldn't he do to real warriors! He'd never let them rest!" Said the master healer in a good humoured way.

"And what about Thranduil? Did you tell him of Andbrethil?" This question was both directed to Sehael and Hallathon, but still it was Sehael who answered. The warrior with the sling merely listened to the other's talk.

"He reacted as could be expected from any father. He was worried, what can I say?" Just then Laurendol returned, carrying four steaming trays with what seemed to be the best-smelling food any of them had ever set their eyes upon.

"Dinner's here! Finally! Were you talking about the King?"

"Yes, of the King and of certain healers that leave their post in the middle of work!" Gallach jested.

"I have not! But you forget that I'm the one who has dinner! For that, I'm not giving you any food! And this smells delicious! It was Morwinyon who prepared it especially for us! And you know how well she cooks, don't you?..."

"Morwinyon?! Oh, forgive me, my friend! You know me, I am but a child in mind, I do not know of what I speak! Please? Not only did Morwinyon make it, but I'm also starving! It's been a long day and I haven't eaten since morning!"

"You're lucky I have a caring soul, Gallach!"

And so they ate and talked of many things. In the end, when they all had their stomachs full, Laurendol made the question that had been bothering her for some time, then.

"Hallathon, how could it be that a group of such brave warriors took such a defeat? What happened to you?" Hallathon looked up with a sad look upon his features and a tinge of guilt amidst it.

"I'm not quite sure myself. All I know is that we were patrolling the borders, as supposed, and all of a sudden, this enormous group of Orcs came out of nowhere. We were very surprised, for neither did we hear them coming nor did the trees warn us of them. Immediately did we pull out our bows and started shooting at them, but it seemed that for each one that fell, three more came to take his place. They too had arrows and made good use of them, as you can see. We kept fighting and slew many still, but then, just as quietly and as mysteriously as they'd arrived, so they disappeared, taking their dead with them. As we looked among ourselves, we noticed that one of our own too had gone missing: Minuial. We fear the Orcs took him."

"That is a strange and distressing tale you tell, Hallathon!" Sehael looked surprised at him. "In the morning, you must tell it whole to the King! For now, though, I just want you to sleep. Do not worry about the others, for they are safe and there is nothing you can yet do for Minuial. But I'm sure you'll want to stay by your brother anyway."

"Yes, of course I do! Thank you master healer, thank you all."

Laurendol prepared the bed immediately right of Andbrethil and set Hallathon to it with a stern look, clearly saying 'now don't worry, he's in good hands, but you need to rest too'. She then went back to the table in the corner, where Sehael and Gallach were already making plans for the next morning.

"Some of them are still too weak to take out the shafts. To Carangalad, we may remove it tomorrow, first thing in the morning. Artholion, I'd let rest for a little while more, but not much longer either. As for Andbrethil, it needs to be removed as soon as possible, but I cannot risk all the blood he'd lose if so. We'll wait until he is stronger and, perhaps in two days, take out the arrow. Before we do all this, though, I want you two to study the one I took from Lossendur, memorise its shape, you'll need that knowledge tomorrow."

"What about Andbrethil's eye? What are you going to do?"

"That I will see again in the morning too, before I go with Hallathon to see the King. I'll try to send out messengers to other healers, asking for advice."

"Poor lad, I feel sorry for him. He's still so young!"

"Yes, that he is Laure. But come now, there is nothing more to do here and we could use some well-earned sleep as well. Someone should stay up, though, in case anyone wakes and needs something. We'll take shifts. I'll take the first one, then Laurendol, and then Gallach."

All of the healers bid their farewells and good wishes for the night then, and the two maidens left for their chambers, adjacent to the infirmary, so they would be nearby.

Gallach and Laurendol had a satisfied look on their faces as they gave in to slumber. This was why they had wanted to become healers, to help others in their afflictions. To know that the patients were on their way to recovery, thanks to them, and to know that they had successfully accomplished their goals was most rewarding and more than enough reason for them to keep striving in their job. That afternoon they'd learnt many new things from Sehael, while they watched him tending to one and another warrior. Their respect and admiration for him grew with each passing day, and they were honoured to be able to learn and work by his side.

Sehael too was pleased with them. They were fast learners and would be fully qualified in the healing arts soon. However, there was still much for them to learn, both from him and others, but he had full confidence in them. He could tell they had all that was needed to make a good healer, and had proven it once again on that day: a cool head; intelligence; resourcefulness and, of course, a good pair of hands, filled with skill and gentleness. Thus he sat for a good part of the night, listening to the sounds of the warriors' breathing and thinking of what the next day would bring, until Laurendol came to render him.


End file.
